A Home For Her Baby. Eleanor Jones

insisted. “Your writing’s first class—all you need to do is get all the information you can and then listen to your heart.”

      Now, sitting in a bar sipping a glass of wine as she waited for her ex to appear, Ali thought about that conversation for what felt like the millionth time; since Jason and Laura had determinedly planted the idea in her head she’d become more and more drawn to the idea of writing a book for Bobby, her dad and all the other fishermen. Now, finally, the work she’d been doing for Jason was finished and on Laura’s strict orders she’d taken the plunge and rung Jake. Their marriage was over, she’d never been more sure of anything, and today she was going to tell him straight.

      With Jason’s confidence in her journalistic competence buoying her, the idea of writing the book began to consume Ali; it felt like a need, a way to try and put things straight...or as straight as they could ever be. She’d even contacted Elsa May Malone Evans, the owner of her cottage, to arrange another six months’ lease so that she didn’t lose the option of going back to live there. Seeing Jake today felt like the last piece of the puzzle and she hoped that when it was slotted into place she would know what to do with her life.

      She’d felt so certain about her meeting with Jake, but now that the moment was here, apprehension flooded over her. Whatever was she going to say to the man she’d lived with for almost three years, the man she’d sworn to love forever; that promise seemed like nonsense now, and she silently vowed to never give herself so wholeheartedly again. The failure of this marriage made a mockery of love and that was sad.

      As she saw him appear along the street, however, dapper and stylish, sure of himself and full of self-confidence, her apprehension faded. How could she have ever believed that he was the man for her, she wondered, remembering Tom’s tough, quiet approach to a life that was driven by his passion for the sea? Putting Jake straight about ending their marriage no longer seemed like a problem, more just a means to an end.

      He approached across the busy bar carrying a pint of beer and sat, giving her his best, well-practiced smile. “So,” he said, taking a gulp of the amber liquid. “You’ve finally seen sense.”

      “Hello, Jake,” she said. “And yes, you’re right—I have come to my senses. I just came to meet you so that I could tell you face-to-face. I’m filing for divorce and I’ll be coming for the rest of my things tomorrow. Whatever we had is long gone, Jake. I wish you happiness and a successful future but it won’t be with me.”

       CHAPTER NINE

      BIT BY BIT in Jenny Brown’s Bay a slow healing began. Just two weeks after Tom and Ned braved the sea again Jed Roberts finally decided it was time he, too, faced his demons and went out with his two sons on a fishing trip. No one mentioned Bobby’s name as they headed out into the English Channel but in every one of the familiar tasks they undertook he was there.

      It felt good, thought Tom, to feel Bobby’s presence around them without that first deep cut of agony. The pain of his loss would be with them forever but the happy memories of his young brother could only bring joy.

      “He’ll always be with us won’t he,” Jed said, looking across at his sons as they made their way homeward.

      “Sure will,” Tom agreed. “In fact he’s probably laughing at our long faces right now.”

      “He’ll no doubt be bringing laughter to heaven,” Jed added.

      “He should be here with us,” cut in Ned, his face dark with anger. “It should never have happened.”

      “But it did,” Jed told him sadly. “And bitterness will only bring more pain. You have to let go, son, for your own peace of mind—even your mother is trying to move on and it’s cut her deeper than any of us.”

      * * *

      AS HER HUSBAND and two remaining sons began to rekindle their love affair with the sea and let go of their fears, back home Grace Roberts had finally persuaded herself that it was time to go through Bobby’s things and allow him to rest. Standing in the doorway to his room she fondly remembered how he’d always clung on to his childhood belongings, like Podge, the well-worn yellow bear who sat on a shelf with other keepsakes. His brothers had teased him about keeping Podge but Bobby hadn’t cared. In fact, Grace realized, life in general had rather slid right over him; nothing ever bothered Bobby much. It was a part of having older brothers she supposed, teasing him and trying to wind him up but always there as a backup when needed.